Elementary, My Dear Max
by Foxcat93
Summary: Max and 99 help solve a Victorian mystery with a bit of humour.
1. 221B Baker Street

**Elementary, My Dear Max**

**Or**

**Sherlock Holmes' Dumber Brother**

Maxwell Smart, Agent 86 of Control and Agent 99 were looking forward to the rest of their time in London. They had just finished a case, having joined with British Control in capturing an international gang of jewel thieves. The rest of the time was their own and they were planning to do some sightseeing in London and then just relax before returning to the States.

"Max," said 99. "In all the times we've been in London, there is one place we haven't ever seen."

"What's that, 99" asked Max.

"221B Baker Street, Max. the Sherlock Holmes' museum. Max, they've furnished it as if Homes and Watson actually lived there."

"Sounds interesting, 99. Let's go this afternoon."

The Smarts arrived at the fictional detective's lodgings. They paid for their tickets and were told to take their time on the self-guided tour, but to be aware that the tours ended for the day promptly at 6:00 pm. They climbed the 17 steps to Holmes' famous study.

Max sat down in Holmes' armchair by the fire. The day was a bit chilly, so the fire felt good. Max noticed the deerstalker hat hung above Holmes' coat. He saw a formal top hat next to it above another man's coat. He impulsively tried on the top hat. He looked in the mirror admiring himself.

Meanwhile, 99 was looking at all the Victorian items in the room. Suddenly she saw something that seemed out of place. A lovely Victorian woman's hat covered with pink and purple flowers was hanging on a hook on the wall. She knew she wasn't supposed to touch anything, but she really wanted to see how the hat would look if she put it on. She carefully put the hat on and admired how lovely it looked in the mirror and how it made her look like a Victorian woman.

She turned around to show Max and saw that he was also looking in the mirror, looking at himself in the top hat.

Max looked up. "99, you look fantastic in that hat and dress." He squinted his eyes, thinking. "Where did it come from, 99?"

99 looked down at herself. She did indeed have a Victorian dress on, in addition to the hat. She looked over at Max. He was wearing a male Victorian suit, complete with a tailcoat, in addition to the hat.

99 went over to the window. "Max, come here!"

Looking down from the window, the Smarts could see the street below. There were cabs, not automobiles, but hansom cabs, drawn by horses. The street was cobbled and there were gas street lights.

"Max, what's going on?" asked 99, both puzzled and alarmed.

"99, that's the best movie set I've ever seen! Why it looks absolutely real! You just look outside and you're in the 19th Century!"

They turned around toward the room. Sitting in the chair next to the now roaring fire was a man they both recognized as the great fictional detective himself, Mr Sherlock Holmes. Standing next to him was another man, undoubtedly Dr John Watson.

99 was speechless. Max took a step toward them and tripped over the end of the Oriental rug, falling to his knees. He got up quickly and brushed himself off. He removed the top hat and held it in his hands.


	2. Our Strange Visitors

**_From the memoirs of Dr John Watson:_**

I didn't see the visitors as Holmes and I entered the sitting room. Mrs Hudson had not spoken a word about them before we climbed the steps to our lodging. Holmes, in his own inimitable way, already knew they were there.

Holmes divested himself of his Inverness cape and I my greatcoat. When he had made himself comfortable in front of the fire, which Mrs Hudson had prepared prior to our arrival, I brought out my writing materials and sat down at the table.

I should introduce myself, I am Dr John H Watson, physician and friend of the illustrious Mr Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective. We reside at 221B Baker Street, London. I have taken it upon myself to chronicle Holmes' many cases and the extraordinary way he has solved each one.

I looked up from my writing and saw the visitors. Holmes picked up his pipe and lit it. He spoke nary a word. I stood up and walked toward them. "I am Dr Watson; this is Mr Holmes," I said, gesturing toward Holmes. "Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

The visitors were a man and a woman, dressed in contemporary Victorian clothing. The man picked himself up off the floor where he had tripped over the Oriental rug. I motioned both of them to sit down, noting that Holmes still was silent, but watching with his eagle eye.

The man was small and short of stature, with dark hair, a long nose and squinting hazel eyes. He appeared to be in his early forties. There was nothing extraordinary about his dress, except that all of his clothing looked completely new, as if it had just come from the taylor's shoppe.

The woman was a study in loveliness, her brunette hair in ringlet curls under her flowered chapeau. Her dress matched the hat and again, looked completely new. She had large blue eyes and full lips. She looked to be in her early thirties. Slim and statuesque, she appeared a bit taller than her companion.

"Eh, well, yes…my name is Maxwell Smart and this is my wife…eh…Mrs Smart." As soon as the man spoke, I knew he was American. Later Holmes informed me that, listening to the way Mr Smart pronounced his own name, my colleague determined his accent to be somewhere from the east coast of the American States. I noticed Smart's distinct nasal tone.

"Is there anything that I can do for you, good sir?" I asked.

"We seem to be a bit lost," said the woman. Her voice was soft and melodious, also American, but her accent, as I discovered later from Holmes, was from the mid-western states.

"You are quite welcome to share our humble quarters, Mr Smart," said Holmes, speaking up for the first time. We have a guest suite upstairs."

"We are very much in your debt, sir," said Mrs Smart.

"Tell me, when did you finish your case in London?" asked Holmes.

"We did just finish a case…how did you know? asked Max.

Holmes didn't answer immediately. He put down his pipe. "You are in London for some purpose other than just a visit. Your words 'You just look outside and you're in the 19th Century' intrigue me and tell me that you are both some sort of time travellers. I also saw your identification card fall from your wallet as you tripped earlier…it's still there on the rug. I can see it's for some official agency…Control…" Holmes motioned to me. "Watson, please show our guests to the apartment."

Mr Smart picked up his identification card from the rug and looked at it, stunned that Holmes understood what it signified.

"Mr Holmes," said Mrs Smart. "Why do you say we are time travellers?"

"Why else would you be surprised to look out from our windows to see what is normal for us to see?"

"There's no such thing as time travel!" said Mr Smart.

"Then what do you call yourselves?" asked Holmes. Neither of the visitors said a word. I took the two strangers up the stairs to the guest suite. Mr Smart tripped over the lintel as he entered the sitting room.

"I shall send Mrs Hudson to bring whatever you need," I said.

"Thank you, Dr Watson, you are very kind," smiled Mrs Smart.

As I left the room, Mr Smart sat on the rocking chair and removed his right shoe. He twisted off the heel, and detached the sole, revealing a small dial. He twisted the dial and spoke into the shoe.

I closed the door, but stayed to eavesdrop.

"Chief!" said Smart, in a loud nasal tone. "Can you hear me?…what? when are we leaving London?…eh, wait a minute…99, will you ask Dr Watson what year this is?"

Embarrassed to be found eavesdropping outside the door, I moved to leave my listening post, but Mrs Smart was quick and she opened the door.

"Dr Watson, what year is it?" she asked.

A strange question, I mused. "Why it's 1892, my dear."

"Thanks!" She left the door half-way open and told her husband, who relayed it to the shoe. Fascinated, I couldn't pull myself away from the scene.

"Chief, we'll be back in Washington in 82 years." Smart obviously heard something loud from the strange contraption in his footwear, and he dropped the shoe, picked it up again and held it at arm's length as what sounded like shouting emanated from the shoe. I took my leave of the guest suite at that moment.

* * *

><p>"Max! What did you just say to the Chief?"<p>

"I told him we'd be back home in 82 years. By then the airplane will have been invented and we can fly back to Washington…"

"Max, aren't you even a little upset? How did we go back in time?"

"I don't know, 99, maybe Mr. Holmes can figure it out. He seems to know something about it…" Max looked confused.

"Max, he's a fictional detective, from a book! He's not real!"

"That can't be true, 99, we saw him and Dr Watson too. And here we are in his guest apartment."

"Maybe it's a dream, love. If it's not, we'll never get back home to see the twins again!" 99 had tears in her eyes.

Max hugged 99 gently and wiped her tears with his handkerchief. "Sweetheart, don't cry, we'll get back soon." Max said. His bravado was all on the outside; he wasn't really so sure, and he looked worried too.


	3. Still 1892

The following day, Max and 99 awoke early. 99 ran to the window. She saw the horses and buggies on the cobbled street below. She sighed. It was still 1892.

Max was searching the room. He opened the closet and saw several other Victorian costumes, both male and female. Then something caught his eye. It was his own clothes from the 20th Century, and 99's too! 99's purse was sitting on the floor along with her shoes. Oddly enough, the only remnant from the 1970's that had remained on Max's person was his shoe phone.

"Sweetheart, look at this," Max said excitedly. He checked the pockets of his modern suit coat and his vest and found all of the secret Control items that he had been wearing before their Victorian transformation. 99 opened her purse to find all of her Control devices intact.

"Max!" she said excitedly, "Maybe these things will help us get back home!" Then she sat back down on the bed. "But I don't know how…Max, can you think of anything?"

"Not at the moment, 99. Let's just get dressed."

The two agents dressed in the Victorian clothes, filled their pockets with their Control devices and descended the stairs to the level of Holmes' sitting room. They entered the rooms, which were deserted for the moment.

Just then there was a knock on the door. Max and 99 glanced at one another.

"You'd better get that, 99," said Max. 99 opened the door to a young, red-haired_, _green-eyed woman wearing a dark, very plain Victorian dress and bonnet.

"Oh, Mr. Holmes, I do hope you can help me," she said in a soft Irish brogue, directing her words to Max.

"Eh, well, I'm not Mr. Holmes, Ma'am, but I'm …eh…his brother…yes, his brother from America…Maxwell Smart…eh…" Max thought quickly; he had just put his foot in his mouth. "Mr. Holmes' half-brother.: Max smiled. That made sense. This is my wife. 99 shot him a rather irritated glance._ Holmes' brother?_ she thought. _Indeed!_

"Please sit down, Ma'am," said Max.

"Me name is Molly O'Shea," said the young woman. "Mr Smart, I'm working as a maid at the Huntley-Jones estate and there are some strange goings-on there."

"Tell me about it, Miss O'Shea."

"Well, there's been a disappearance and some stolen jewels, Mr Smart!"

"Have you called the police?"

"Yes, Scotland Yard is investigating, …but me own Aidan is missing…he's the stableman…they are blaming him for the thievery."

99 went over to the girl and put her arm around her, comfortingly. "What else can you tell us, Miss O'Shea?"

"It's Mrs Huntley-Jones, the lady of the house; all her expensive jewels have disappeared."

"Why would they think that Aidan would have stolen Mrs Huntley-Jones' jewels?" asked 99.

"They found one of the empty jewel cases in his room! " replied Molly.

"Well, 99, I think we need to investigate this case!" said Max.

"Max," said 99 gently. She could see that he was getting excited about being on a case, even if it was in a different place and time. Perhaps that made it even more interesting. "Are you sure we should be doing this?"

"Why not? Let's go, ladies!"

Max herded the two women out the door and closed it on the tail of his coat. Mrs Hudson, an older woman in a dark Victorian dress, was bringing up a tray with tea and some food on it. As Max turned, he knocked the tray out of her hands and it went flying down the stairs.

"Mr Smart!" said Mrs. Hudson, "what are you doing?"

Max was trying to get the back of his coat out of the door and he was also trying to remember who the older woman was. Molly was looking on, confused and 99 was rolling her eyes.

"And who are you, Ma'am?" said Max, still distracted.

"I'm Mrs Hudson, Mr Holmes' housekeeper!"

Max finally got his coat out of the door. "Sorry about that Mrs Hudson, but I wondered where Mr Holmes and Dr Watson are this morning.

"They have been out on a case all night, Mr Smart. Dr Watson asked me to make sure you and Mrs Smart had breakfast this morning."

Max stopped. He realized this might be the only place they could eat, not having any English money from the 19th century.

"Okey-dokey, Mrs Hudson. We'll have breakfast right here. Can you bring something for Miss O'Shea too?"

"Yes, Mr Smart," Mrs Hudson replied. These Americans certainly were odd, especially this loud and strangely awkward little man.

Max opened the door again and ushered the women back in. They went up to the guest suite and made themselves comfortable at a table. Mrs Hudson brought another tray.

99 was glad that Max had decided to include Molly in the breakfast. She looked like she needed a good meal.

"Why don't you start from the beginning, Miss O'Shea?" said 99 gently. "Do you have any idea who would try to frame your fiancé?"

"I can't think of a reason, Ma'am! He hasn't an enemy in the world! And there's something else, Ma'am…something happened to Mrs Huntley-Jones; the Master says she's in a permanent faint."

"You mean a coma, Miss O'Shea?" asked 99.

"Yes, it seems to be something of the sort."

"When did it happen?" asked Max.

"There was a family party two nights ago. They were celebrating the mistress' birthday. Suddenly Mrs Huntley-Jones fell ill and the Master brought her upstairs.

"Who were the guests?" asked Max.

"A very small party; just a few family members. The jewels were found gone the next morning and Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard was called in. He talked to everyone, then let them leave in the morning. But I was hoping to see Mr Holmes; the Inspector seems to believe that me own Aidan has done the deed of stealing the jewels and I know he didn't!" She looked about to cry.

"Mr. Holmes isn't here now…Can we help you, Miss O'Shea? I'm a licensed private investigator…"

"Oh, splendid!" replied Molly. "I am fortunate to find two of Mr. Holmes' relatives at home when he was away. But I must get back soon."

"Excuse us a moment, Molly…" 99 pulled Max to the side where Molly couldn't hear. "Max, you're a licensed investigator…in the States…and 82 years in the future! Are you sure we're up to an investigation in a foreign country ….and in another time?"

Max stuck his thumbs in his vest. "Of course we are! 99, why do you think we wouldn't be up to it? After all, we're only 82 years in the past and in a different country and I'm the brother of a great detective…well, a great fictional detective, …well, I'm not really his brother, only his half-brother…" 99 gave him the "look." "Well,…sort of friends…eh, acquaintances…well, we met him last night…and we're living in a museum…eh, 99, do you think we're up to this?"

"I don't know, Max, but I think we had better make up our minds. It would be nice to try to help Molly…"

"All right, Molly," announced Max. "Let's go out to the estate."

Max found some contemporary money in the pocket of the Victorian coat he was wearing. So they hired a cab and were dropped off in front of the country mansion. It was on a huge estate. The two Control agents and the servant girl walked up to the front door. Max rang the bell. It was answered by the footman. "Yes?" he inquired of Max and 99. Then he saw Molly. "Molly, where have you been? The master has had everyone looking for you!"

"Mr Jenkins, please let me speak to the master..." said Molly.

Max, 99 and Molly entered the foyer. "I will call him," said the footman.

Mr. Huntley-Jones came into the foyer to meet the maid. A tall, middle-aged man with greying hair, he looked angry. "What is the meaning of this, Molly? I did not give you permission to leave the estate." He glanced at Max and 99. "And who have you brought with you?"

"I am frightfully sorry, sir," said Molly. She looked about to cry again. "I went into the city to find Mr Sherlock Holmes to look into this affair…you know it is me own Aidan McGuire who is accused of this crime…"

"Yes, Molly, and that is precisely the reason you should not have left the estate…and who did you say your acquaintances are?"

"I went to get Mr Holmes," said Molly, "but he was not available. However, his half-brother and his wife, Mr and Mrs Smart from America, have graciously consented to come out in his stead." Huntley-Jones turned to Max and 99. "I am not being a gracious host, forgive me, please come in and sit down in the parlour."

Huntley-Jones went on as they seated themselves, "I am most pleased to meet you. However, I was not aware that Mr Holmes had relatives in America. And furthermore, Inspector Lestrade has no need of any help…he says he is making progress on the case."

At that moment, Lestrade strode into the room. A small man, perhaps Max's height, he had sallow skin and dark eyes. "Well, guv'nah, I'm done 'ere for the day. I'm keepin' a man 'ere to make sure no one leaves during the night…" He looked pointedly at Molly.

"She won't leave again, will you, Molly?" said Huntley-Jones, looking at Molly again.

"No, Sir."

"Mr and Mrs Smart, may I welcome you to our estate. We call it Ivy Hill."

"Because Molly went to all the trouble of asking us to come, we would be happy to give any assistance that we can to Inspector Lestrade…" said 99. Ivy Hill's master nodded and left the room. He looked very troubled.

Max was walking around the room, looking at everything carefully. As he passed by a priceless Ming vase on a pedestal, Max got too close and bumped into the vase. It started to wobble and fall. Luckily he caught it and put it back on the pedestal. He looked around and saw that no one had seen the incident.

"Are you looking for clues, Mr Smart?" asked Molly. "This is not the room where the crime took place…Let me get you some tea…I must be getting back to work…" Molly left the room. She returned shortly with the tea and said, "The Master is coming to show you the room."

She left the room and Mr Huntley-Jones reappeared. "Molly has asked me to show you the room where the crime took place. I am not allowing anyone up in my wife's suite, unless I am with them, save the doctor."

Huntley-Jones showed the Smarts the bedroom suite. There was a wall-safe hanging open; nothing was inside. There were several jewel cases open, empty, sitting on the settee and several others on the dressing table. Max noticed a door that was closed. "What's in there, Sir?" he asked.

"My wife's bed chamber. The doctor is with her."


	4. Clues

Max checked the room out. Luckily Max and 99 had taken along many of their Control gadgets and Max used them to dust for fingerprints, then they took the prints of all the people who lived at Ivy Hill. Many of them matched, which was normal, for the Master and servants would of course have been in the room. There one set that did not match anyone. The only persons that Max had not been able to fingerprint were the doctor they had not met, Mrs Huntley-Jones and stableman Aidan McGuire, Lestrade's suspect. If one of those sets of prints were McGuire's, he was surely guilty or at least would have some explaining to do, for there would be no reason for a stableman to be in the mistress' bedroom.

Max checked the carpets for any signs of dirt or clay which could give them a clue as to the perpetrator, but Molly had done a good job of cleaning the carpets and floors. He checked for footprints outside, but nothing showed on the grass or in the gardens near the Mistress' windows that he could find.

However, Max did find a very odd item in the bedroom suite. It was a gold stick pin, such as one might use on a tie. It was in the shape of a vulture, with its head in a menacing pose, standing on a ball that could be a globe. He stared at it … it looked familiar. But he couldn't place it at the moment. He put it in his pocket.

99, meantime, was questioning the family about who had been at the party and she made a list. She also asked if there were any strangers luring about the environs that evening.

She met up with Max a bit later and they compared notes. "What did you find out, 99?"

"Well, apparently Aidan did have a good reason to steal the jewellery. He and Molly are to be married soon and he has practically no money according to Molly. He looks after the horses. So he has a motive. So do all the servants…but he's the one that's missing."

"However, if we are to believe Molly, Aidan is very honest and would never steal anything. There have been some suspicious looking people around here looking for work as farm hands. That seems a bit far-fetched…the farm hands stay out in the small building out in back of the mansion. It is unusual for them to even enter the house. Food is brought out to them or they get it from the kitchen."

"99, you seem really good at this type of Sherlock Holmesian detective work…are you sure you're not another one of his brothers?"

"Max!" said 99 in her best chiding voice.

"Right,. You couldn't be his brother…how about his mother?"

99 rolled her eyes. "I don't think so, Max!"

"Maybe his second cousin once removed…"

"Max, I'm not related to him!"

"Would you believe Mrs Hudson's granddaughter in law?" 99 started to giggle and gave him a kiss. "Did you find out anything, Max?"

"There wasn't a clue anywhere, 99. I just don't understand it." He put his hand in his pocked and pulled it out quickly, saying "Owww!"

"What's wrong, Max?"

"I found this weird little tie pin on the floor in Mrs Huntley-Jones' bedroom suite. It was right near the fireplace…It just pricked me in the finger…" Max pulled the tie pin out of his pocket., setting it on the table, then put his bleeding finger in his mouth.

"Isn't that just the ugliest thing you've ever seen? I wouldn't be caught dead wearing a monstrosity like that…who would wear a hideous looking vulture like that on his tie?"

99 examined it closely. "Max!"

"What is it, 99?"

"It's the KAOS vulture!"

Max looked at it again. "It can't be, 99. There was no KAOS until the 1930's…"

"Well, if you and I didn't bring it here, then there must be someone else here from our time…"

Max narrowed his eyes and gave 99 a scrutinizing look. "How do I know that you didn't bring it here, 99...after all you and Victor Royall were pretty close…" Max was referring to a KAOS agent that 99 had dated for a short while before she married Max. However she hadn't known that Victor was a KAOS agent at the time.

"Max! Stop it! I never saw Victor with a tie pin like that and even if I had, I wouldn't be bringing it with me…I would have thrown it away!" She looked a bit miffed that Max would even think such a thing. He didn't notice. She handed him the tie pin back and he put it in his pocket.

"Max," said 99 thoughtfully, "maybe the person who dropped this left something else in Mrs Huntley-Jones' room. If you found it near the fireplace, maybe there's another clue…."

Max narrowed his eyes, looking thoughtful too. "I don't know, 99. But I've had a thought…maybe the person who dropped this left something else in Mrs Huntley-Jones' room. Since I found it near the fireplace, maybe there's another clue there! What do you think, 99?"

"I think you're right as usual," sighed 99, rolling her eyes.

Going back to the bedroom suite again, Max and 99 checked the fireplace area carefully. 99 was down on her hands and knees with a large magnifying glass in her hand trying to find the smallest clue.

"99, I think you really _are_ Holmes' other half-brother. You sure know how to use that magnifying glass." 99 rolled her eyes again, but didn't stop looking.

Max was looking thoughtful again. He pulled out a cigarette from his case and looked around for some matches in his pocket, but couldn't find any. He looked at the mantle and there was a matchbook laying there. He opened it, lit a match and was laying it back on the mantle when he fumbled and it flew down on the floor, right next to where 99 was checking the carpet with her magnifying glass.

"Max, what's this? Where did you get it?"

"Up here on the mantle. Hand it to me; I'll put it back."

99 got to her feet. "Max, did you see what it says?"

Max took the matchbook and read from the cover, "KAOS Bar and Grill, Washington, D.C. Thursday is Ladies' Night. Free drinks and dancing. So?"

"Max! We're in London…it's 1892...KAOS doesn't exist yet…so how did that get there?"

"Somebody must be playing a little joke on us, 99."

"Max," 99 said exasperatedly, "I think someone may have brought this from the future!"

"99, that's silly! How could anyone get here from the future? Time machines don't exist…no one could do that…"

"Max, think…"

"You have a point, 99. _We're _here. But we didn't come in a time machine…"

"Max, we have to find out what's going on! Is there anything else in the room…"

"No, I don't think so, 99." He threw his cigarette butt in the fireplace. 99 followed the stub with her eyes. It landed right next to another cigarette butt.

"Max, look!" 99 pulled the other cigarette butt out of the fireplace. She examined it carefully. "See this tiny wording…can you see what it says, Max?"

"What does it say, 99...I suppose it has a vulture on it or something bizarre like that…" he said a bit sarcastically.

"Not exactly. But it has the letters KTC on it. What does that stand for?"

"Hmmm…Kiddie Tram Cars…no…Karaoke Turkey Calls…Kansas Tornado City…is that where Dorothy was from?"

"No, Max…it stands for KAOS Tobacco Company! Don't you remember when they got into the tobacco business and were trying to close down all the other tobacco companies?"

"Hmmm. 99, you're right. I do remember the KAOS Tobacco Company. Their cigarettes weren't great, but their exploding cigars were a huge blast…I mean they went over with a bang…they really made the market go ka-boom!"

"Max, be serious! Apparently there is a KAOS agent…perhaps more than one involved in this case."

"More than one?"

"Yes, Max. See the lipstick on the cigarette butt? Obviously a female. And the tie pin would belong to a man. There's at least two of them!"


	5. Reporting Back

The Smarts had a quiet stay at Ivy Hill. As the day wore on, Mr Huntley-Jones invited them to stay the night. They decided to walk the grounds in the late afternoon before dark to see if they could see anything else. All was still, but there was the sense that something might happen soon. However, the Smarts had only been invited for the one night's stay and after breakfast decided to depart.

On the way back to London, 99 said, "Max, what should we do? We know KAOS is involved in this affair, but we don't know why and we don't know where they are or who they are…"

"You're right, 99, and we don't know how they're going to do it, or when or what weapon they will choose, why we don't even know which room the murder will take place, let's see, the library, the kitchen..…"

"Max, you sound like you're playing the Clue game…and who said anything about murder?"

"In Clue, you always have to have a murder…otherwise there wouldn't be a game!"

"Max, I said, we're not playing Clue!"

"Sorry, 99."

"Do you have any other ideas, Max?"

"99, I think we should look around London when we get back; maybe there will be something there…"

Arriving in London, the Smarts went back to 221B Baker St. Dr Watson was seated at his desk writing. Holmes was not in. Watson stood to greet the visitors. Max removed his top hat, but it dropped out of his hand. Strangely it landed on his foot, thereby tripping him. As he fell, he inadvertently kicked the hat up in the air again and it landed on his head again at the same time that he landed on the floor. It looked as though he had done it on purpose.

"Bravo!" clapped Dr Watson. "I take it you've had circus training…"

99 nodded. "Yes, Dr Watson," she fibbed. "When he was a child…"

Max stood up and took the hat off again.

"Have you made any progress on your case, Mr Smart?" asked Dr Watson.

"Why, yes," said Max, importantly. "We think we know who could be behind this robbery…"

99 cut him off. "What Max is saying is that we have a few clues, but we could use Mr Holmes' expertise to help us…"

"Unfortunately, Holmes is investigating another case. I don't know much about it; he has been very close-mouthed. When he wants my company…he rarely actually needs my help…I shall accompany him so that I can chronicle the case."

Watson smiled. "Sometimes I feel very uncomprehending when I accompany Holmes as he sees details overlooked by my own very pedestrian eye. But I have picked up a few pointers from him. I would be happy to lend an ear, if not a hand.

Max related the whole story, complete with the information about Control, KAOS and the dilemma of the time travel element.

Watson listened with interest. "Time travel…I have heard about the concept, yet never felt it to be a viable idea. But I did hear what Holmes said earlier…You say that you are not from this time?"

99 said, "We are from the mid 20th century…about 82 years from now."

"I find that simply amazing," mused Watson. "If Holmes had not confirmed it, I should not, I am sorry to say, believe you. So you feel that the case that you are working on is somehow connected with this KAOS organization in your own time…"

"Yes, said 99. She showed Watson the two clues picked up at Ivy Hill and explained their significance.

"Was there anyone you did not question at Ivy Hill?"

Max thought a minute. "We talked to everyone, the servants, the family, the outside hired hands, why I even questioned the dog…he didn't know anything though…"

99 shot him a "cut-that-out-Max-you-sound-stupid" look, but he didn't get it. Then she said, "You know, Dr Watson, there are two people in particular we haven't talked to…"

"99, we talked to everyone! Unless, maybe we should have questioned the parrot…he might know something…"

"No, Max, I mean we never talked to Mrs Huntley-Jones."

"But she's in a coma, 99."

"Do we know that for sure?"

Watson followed the conversation with interest, not saying a word himself.

"Well, we didn't see her…"

"Exactly, Max! We don't know if she exists, if she's being held prisoner, if something happened to her…perhaps she knows something and isn't allowed to say…"

Max snapped his fingers! "And the doctor that is supposedly 'caring for her'…maybe he's not a doctor at all!"

"Exactly, Max...it's certainly a possibility. What excuse are we going to give to get us back there, in the house to investigate?"

"One moment," interrupted Dr Watson. "There is indeed another person involved that you have not talked to."

"Who is that?" asked Max.

"Molly O'Shea's fiancé, Aidan McGuire."

Max and 99 looked at each other. They had both forgotten about Aidan McGuire, the reason Molly had come to see Holmes in the first place.

Just then, a tall man with a dark beard and shabby clothes flung open the door. Max and 99 looked up in surprise.


	6. Aidan McGuire

Molly's beau, Aidan, had fled the premises of Ivy Hill as soon as he escaped from the little outbuilding where he had been confined by the other servants after being accused of the jewel robbery. He took off on a horse that had often been loaned to him by the master.

Finding his way to a pub, Aidan sat in a dark corner, ordered some food and some ale and ate quietly by himself, thinking that he might have enough money to stay a few days at the inn and then perhaps, procure a new job. He had finished part of his plate of food when he slowly became aware of someone watching him intently. He sipped the ale and turned his face away, trying to ignore the feeling. Finally he turned back to see a tall man with a dark beard and shabby clothes staring at him.

Aidan turned back to the wall again.

"C'n I sit at yer table, Mister?" asked the stranger.

"Ye can do whatever ye like," replied Aidan. He sounded a bit rude, even to himself, but he was angry and he didn't care.

"'Ave yer 'eard bout the terrible goin's-on at Ivy 'Ill? Why they say there's talk of a mysterious disappearance there!" said the stranger.

Aidan looked up sharply, his face showing no emotion, save for his blue eyes which seemed troubled. "I don't know anythin' about that…why would ye think that I do?"

"Y' work the stable there, don't y'?" asked the stranger, his eyes probing Aidan intensely, making him uncomfortable.

Aidan didn't answer.

"I know yer do. They say y' done the crime."

"They're not speakin the truth..." He glanced up at the man's face. "And who are ye, good sir?"

"A friend."

"Well, me friend, ye care for a drink?" Aidan called for another glass and poured a drink for the stranger.

The stranger wet his lips with the drink, then put it down.

"Who are they that are sayin' that I done the evil deed?" asked Aidan.,

"At the manor 'ouse…and there is talk abou' the town…the police is out after y'…"

Aidan's pale skin turned whiter. "Tell me who ye are…"

The stranger's hoarse working class accent turned into the cultured Queen's English. "I am Sherlock Holmes, perhaps you have heard of me?"

Aidan looked startled. "Yes…I have heard o' ye…how…?"

"Inspector Lestrade contacted me concerning the crime at Ivy Hill. He asked me to try to find you, the one he perceived was the perpetrator of the crime. I was on my way to Ivy Hill when I saw you and I followed you."

"How did ye know me?" asked Aidan quizzically.

"Your horse has the mark of belonging to Ivy Hill. I followed your horse's hoof prints…each blacksmith has a distinct way of making a horseshoe. You are most certainly a stableman by your clothes."

"I won't go back to Ivy Hill until the murderer is found…"

"Why are you speaking of a murder; there has been no talk of this, Lestrade had been speaking of a jewel theft..." said Holmes.

Aidan suddenly looked sad. "The mistress…she…" Here Aidan paused and looked troubled. "She has not been seen since the evening of the party…the evening that her jewels were discovered to be stolen and the night I was accused of stealing the jewels."

"They did not accuse you of murder?"

"No, there was no talk of that…the mistress is a kind and gentle woman. She would not accuse me of thievery; I have never even been on the second floor of the house. I stay with the other outside servants in the servant's quarters on the grounds of the mansion. I have been on the main floor of the house, but never above that."

"I see," said Holmes. "Did you see anyone on the grounds or in the house that looked suspicious to you?"

"I did not, Mr Holmes," said Aidan. "Only a few family members were there. I fed, watered and saddled their horses, that is all."

"Thank you, Mr McGuire; I hope that you shall be more forthcoming the next time that we meet…" said Holmes as he left the pub without another word.

Aidan looked after the detective, puzzled.

* * *

><p>Holmes related his meeting with Aidan McGuire as he pulled off his false beard and removed the shabby coat to replace it with his usual suit coat.<p>

"So you are working on the same case as the Smarts, am I correct, Holmes? asked Watson.

"Yes."

"But a murder?" asked 99. "We thought it was simply a robbery…"

"It's more than that, Mrs Smart," said Holmes, settling down in his chair before the fire. "I must admit, your presence here is quite fascinating to me. I hadn't put it all together until I heard Mr McGuire's and Miss O'Shea's story…" He paused to light his pipe.

"The murder…who is the victim?" asked 99.

"Who indeed?" said Holmes quixotically.

Just then Max' shoe began to ring. Holmes raised an eyebrow.

"Maxwell Smart here….yes…like I said, Chief…82 years. Yes, I'm sure we'll have solved the case in 82 years, why anyone could solve the case in 82 years. When will we be back? I said, 82 years…"

"Max, give me the shoe," said 99. "Hi, Chief. Yes, we're working on the case right now. I don't know how long it will take us to solve it…what case? You didn't know we were on a case and you want us to drop it immediately and come home? Sorry, Chief, we can't do that. We'll talk to you later." 99 looked sad as she gave the shoe back to Max.

99 and Max saw that Holmes found their shoe phone interesting and just a bit humorous. A smile played about his lips, but just for an instant.

"I need to know more about this organization KAOS," said Holmes.

After the Smarts filled in the details of what KAOS was, Holmes said, "There is much more information about this Huntley-Jones affair than appears on the surface, Mr Smart. I should like to ask you if you and your wife would be so kind as to stay the night again at Ivy Hill."

"We haven't been invited, Mr Holmes…" said 99.

"You have now," said the detective, with a quick smile. "Watson has made arrangements for your stay tonight at Ivy Hill." He steepled his fingers. "There will be a cab waiting for you directly, just outside. And Mr Smart, one thing…"

"Yes?" asked Max.

"You should know that Huntley-Jones is not happy with the arrangement by any means."

"Perhaps we shouldn't go," said 99.

"That fact, Madam, makes it all the more urgent that you should." The detective handed 99 a small piece of paper. "Do exactly as I have written. Go now, the cab awaits you."

The Smarts entered the cab in silence. Max looked lost in thought. After a few moments, 99 said softly, "A penny for your thoughts…"

Max looked at her and smiled. "No one's ever offered to pay me for my thoughts before…"

"Oh, why not?"

"Mostly because I wasn't thinking…"

99 laughed softly. "Well, you must be thinking now…come on... Have you figured out what's going on at Ivy Hill?"

"Pay me first…" Max stuck out his hand.

"What?" said 99.

"Come on, you promised…a penny!"

"Max! I don't have any money, don't you remember? Our US money is worthless here, it hasn't even been minted yet. So I don't have it with me. And we don't have any more British money…."

"Then I'll take an IOU!"

"Max!"

"99, it's to commemorate the momentous occasion when you offered to pay me for thinking!"

She smiled. "OK." She wrote on a small piece of paper and Max kissed it and placed it in his watch pocket.

"Owww!" he said as he pulled the finger out of the pocket quickly and put it in his mouth.

"What's wrong now, Max?"

"I think it's that ugly little stick pin, 99."

"Let me look at it again, Max. I have my magnifying glass with me." 99 looked at the stick pin and suddenly cried, "Max!"

"Did you stick yourself too, 99...it's wise to be careful around that thing!"

"No, no, Max…I just saw something…the pin is obviously made of gold. Very nicely made for such an ugly subject. See the letters on it?"

"KAOS," read Max. "We knew that before, 99."

"No, Max, under the KAOS letters…see, it says H-M-J…It's a specially engraved pin…"

"What could that stand for, 99? Let's see…His Majesty James…Is the King's name James, 99?"

"No, no, Max…don't you remember your history? Queen Victoria is the reigning monarch…her husband Prince Albert passed away in 1861."

"Maybe it's _Her_ Majesty James? Is James _her_ middle name?"

"Max, stop it right now! Listen!"

"Well you don't have to get huffy!"

"I'm not, love. Just listen. I think the HJ stands for Huntley Jones!"

"So what is the M in the middle…does it mean Mr or Mrs? Huntley Mr Jones?"

"Max, sometimes with initials, they make the first name's initial larger, and then fit the other initials around it, but smaller. Or sometimes the other way around. The M is in the middle. It could be a first name. We will have to find out the first names of the family members. This belongs to one of them!"

"99, I love it when I have these flashes of inspiration! I'm amazed how I thought of this…it may be an important clue!"

"Yes, Max, you're right," sighed 99. "I'm amazed too…" she said, a bit subdued.

When the Control agents arrived at the mansion, they were given the same guest room that they had used previously. It was later, after supper, so they retired to their room. Molly O'Shea came up shortly thereafter and asked if they wanted something to eat. 99 nodded and thanked her.

Molly brought up a tray with two portions of the dinner which had been served to the family earlier. She put down the tray, then paused a moment. "Please, Mr and Mrs Smart, if I may be so bold, I would bid ye be very careful." She curtsied quickly and took her leave.

"She must think we are in some type of danger, 99."

"I think we are, Max. Look at this…the note from Holmes…." She held out the paper.

Max started reading it out loud…"I would ask you dear lady, to …" 99 shushed him with a finger to her lips.

"Don't read it out loud!" she whispered.

Max read the note silently. It said: "_I would ask you, dear lady, to investigate the bed chamber of Mrs Mariana Huntley-Jones carefully. Gather whatever evidence and clues you are able to find. Then remove yourself from the bedroom and retire to your own room with your husband. I will send a cab for both of you in the morning_."

"What does he want you to look for?" said Max. 99 shushed him again.

"They might be listening," she mouthed. "Max, I'm not hungry any more," said 99 out loud. "I think I will go to bed."

"What about…" he pointed to the note.

99 pointed her fingers to her mouth. "Eat it!" she whispered.

Like a good spy, Max got rid of the evidence, then made a face. "What kind of ink was that? Yuck!"

99 had her hand on the door and was ready to open it when she heard a sound. She turned. Max had been standing near the fireplace with his hand on the wall a moment ago. Now he was gone!


	7. The Mistress' Chamber

99 looked at the wooden wall where she had last seen Max. There was nothing to see. She pushed in the same area when Max had put his hand earlier and nothing happened. Then she felt something under the throw rug. She pulled up the end of it and there was a small button embedded in the floor. She covered it again and pressed it with her foot.

The wall swung open as if it were a door. It snapped closed as soon as she walked through. She saw Max lying on the floor in the dusty passageway. It was dimly lit by gas lights that lent an eerie flickering glow.

Max groaned. He put his hand to his head where the door had apparently hit him. "Where am I?"

"Ssshhh, Max. You fell into a secret passageway. All these old houses seem to have them." She helped her husband up and brushed off the back of his suit. "Come with me, Max, but be quiet!"

99 led the way with her brooch flashlight. She had remembered that the lovely pin/flashlight was in her purse this morning. She had bought it at the Control UK gift shoppe after their last case. It matched her Victorian clothes perfectly.

99 knew the approximate way to Mrs Huntley-Jones' bedroom. Along the way were markings on the walls, noting the various rooms that they were passing. "It must be for the servants to bring things to the family, Max."

Finally the Smarts found the Mistress's bedroom. "How do you open the door, 99?"

"You just step on that little…"

Before she finished, Max had stepped on the little button in the floor and the door whacked him in the face and he was knocked over again.

"Oh, Max, be careful!" whispered 99, as she knelt down beside him. He rubbed his chin which had taken the blow this time. She helped him up. "You have to stay here, Max."

"Why?"

"It would be improper for a man to be in a Victorian lady's private chamber, Max. I can make up an excuse if I get caught, but it would be harder for you to come up with a reason."

"99, I could tell them I was looking for clues…"

"Max, that's the last thing you want to say to anyone who's a KAOS agent!"

"Would they believe our cat got away and I was hunting for her?"

"Max, our cat F3 is at home in the future…we don't have her with us!"

"Well, they don't know that…" Max went on as 99 frowned. "So would they believe that you left tonight to go for a glass of water, and you left with only one shoe and I followed you with the other one…"

She was still frowning. Max tried again. "How about you forgot your underwear?"

"Max, stop it, this is serious! Just stay in the passageway and if I need help, you will be able to see me."

"OK." Max looked pouty. 99 gave him a kiss. Then she went through the door in the wall and it closed behind her. He could see her through a small hole, undetectable from the inside room.

Then she disappeared behind a wooden screen and he craned his neck to see her.

* * *

><p>This room of the suite was the one that they had not seen the previous day when she and Max had looked at the empty jewel cases and found the clues. It was the one Mr Huntley-Jones had not allowed them to enter, saying the doctor was with his wife. 99 carefully peeked around the ornately carved wooden screen that effectively split the room in two parts. There was a beautiful canopy bed done in shades of pink and green. The wall paper was of a dark green hue with tiny pink flowers adorning it.<p>

Under the coverlet of the bed, and lying upon the lacy pillow, was a lovely middle aged woman, her blonde hair curling and spilling over the lace-edged pillow. She appeared to be fast asleep. She didn't move a muscle.

99 knew she must be ill as her husband had said, but she still believed that she should try to speak to the woman. She might know something about the mysterious theft of her jewels. 99 drew closer and said, "Mrs Huntley-Jones? Ma'am? Could I speak with you?" The woman made no move.

99 touched her on the arm. She was cold! 99 drew back in shock. She felt for a pulse or heartbeat. The woman had neither. Her arms were limp and lifeless. This was so unexpected that 99 hesitated for a moment, trying to think of what to do next. She remembered Max was close by. She kept staring at the woman in bed. She pulled back the cover, thinking to look for blood or a wound or something that had caused her demise.

As 99 pulled back the cover, the woman's eyes suddenly snapped opened. They were a bright, startling blue. "What are you doing here? Who are you?" asked the woman, as she sat up in bed. Her voice showed no anger, it was very calm. She picked up her hairbrush from the nearby dresser and began to brush her hair.

99 tried to choke back a scream of surprise, then she got hold of herself. 99 was not a woman to be easily frightened. She had held up through amazing ordeals with all sorts of enemies and frightening situations. And this took her by surprise. But then, 99 felt a sharp blow on the back of her head and she slipped to the floor, unconscious.

Max heard the choked scream. He stepped on the button to make the door open…and smacked himself in the head again, this time very hard. The door closed again, leaving him unconscious in the passageway.


	8. The Swashbuckler

Max woke up in the passageway, some time later. He couldn't tell what time it was from his pocket watch, because he had forgotten to wind it. He stepped away from the door, put his foot quickly on the button and whipped it away as fast as he could. so it wouldn't hit him again. He stepped through the doorway into Mrs Huntley-Jones bedroom suite.

"99? 99? Where are you?" he whispered. He wondered if he should look behind the screen, given the warnings he had from 99. He decided to chance it. There was no one behind the screen. He noted the beautiful bed with mussed bed clothes, but no one in it.

He wondered where 99 was. He looked everywhere for her. Not in the closet, under the bed or atop the canopy. He checked the windows. She wasn't outside on any of the ledges. He went to the door which opened onto the corridor and peeked out carefully. There was a balcony overlooking a large room. He looked down from the railing and saw a group that seemed to be almost the whole household filling the room below. 99 was sitting on the divan, the doctor standing behind her, guarding her, it seemed. Max looked for a weapon, in case he had to fight to free 99. He couldn't hear what was going on below.

Max looked for his wristwatch gun, but because he had the pocket watch, he had left his wristwatch in his modern set of clothes. "Drat!" he muttered under his breath. He found his flashlight gun, but the batteries were dead. He stuck it back in his pocket. He checked his pockets again. Aha…here was one! His earplug gun. He squinted at it. He could never remember how to make it work. And putting the bullets in was worse. They were the tiniest things you could imagine, although they did pack a punch. Control R & D took care of that!

He had just decided to use his bare fists and his wits when he saw it…mounted on the wall, a beautiful shining sword. He loved swords and wasn't bad at fencing. A sword in his hand always made him feel like a swashbuckler.

Max pulled the sword down off the wall, feeling its weight in his hand. He zipped it through the air a few times to practice. He jumped around a bit, swishing the sword about. Then he got just a little too close to the wooden balustrade and he crashed through and went flying through the air, the sword in his hand, down, down, down, seemingly in slow motion, to the large room where everyone was gathered. They all looked up and gasped.

Max came down hard on top of a large table. With amazing speed and agility, he jumped off the rather high table with a graceful Douglas Fairbanks leap which was marred only by the fact that he had the table cloth hanging about his arm where he had pierced it with the sword.

"What's the meaning of this?" roared Mr Huntley-Jones, jumping to his feet. "How dare you…..Seize him!" he motioned to his servants, who grabbed Max and de-sworded him.

Huntley-Jones continued: "I want to know what is going on! First this woman is found in my wife's bed chamber, perhaps about to do her harm, now I find this strange fellow brandishing a sword and damaging my home! And after I had given you my hospitality! What do you have to say for yourselves?"

"Sir," said 99. "Your wife was in bed…I thought she was ill…then she spoke to me and ...I don't remember anything more…except that I was hit in the head!"

"Nonsense! No one touched you, except to carry you down here after you had apparently fainted in my wife's bedroom. My wife IS ill and she hasn't spoken to anyone since she fell ill on her birthday…how dare you enter her room when it was expressly forbidden?"

99 didn't want to give away their true identity to whomever the KAOS agent was, so she said no more.

99 quickly noted the folks who were gathered in the room.

Mr Huntley-Jones spoke: "Mr and Mrs Smart, I have no alternative but to confine you to your room tonight. In the morning, I shall insist that you take your leave! You have caused nothing but trouble tonight; I don't care that you are related to the illustrious Sherlock Holmes; all you are is a pair of rude Americans, as far as I am concerned and I shall be delighted when you leave! The rest of you, take leave of me and finish what you were doing, so that my wife can rest in peace!"

The tall footman escorted the Smarts to their room to make sure they got there. As they were walking, 99 said, "May I ask you a question?"

"It depends on what it is," he said coldly.

"We've been here twice and we don't even know your name."

The footman softened a little. "It's Henry Marlowe-Jenkins. The Master refers to me as Jenkins."

"I had wondered too, Mr Jenkins, what is the master's given name?"

Jenkins gave her an odd look. "Why do you wish to know?"

"Just curiosity, I suppose," said 99, smiling.

"It's Malcolm. His mother was Scottish, you see." He gave 99 a strange look. "You are asking too many questions, Madam." He closed the door without further ado and locked them inside the room.

"99, how do you like that? The nerve of him, calling us rude Americans and then locking us in our room!"

"Max, think about this…we have some more clues now…there are at least three people with the initials MHJ or HMJ perhaps…Malcolm Huntley-Jones, his wife Mariana Huntley-Jones and the butler Henry Marlowe-Jenkins. Any one of them could be the KAOS agent."

"What about Molly, the maid?" said Max…Her name begins with an M…"

"It can't be Molly, her last name is O'Shea. Besides she came to us for help. I don't think it's she."

"99, who was in the room before I arrived…it looked as if everyone in the household was there…"

"I know there are some servants who weren't there, Max, but let me think…Jenkins the footman, the butler Chillingsworth, Huntley-Jones, Molly, and the doctor, a woman, I don't know her name. All I know is that she smelled like smoke." 99 paused thoughtfully. "That is odd for a Victorian woman to have been smoking, but…remember the cigarette butt I found with lipstick on it, in the Mistress' bedroom…Max…it had KTC on it, remember? KAOS Tobacco Company?…The doctor must be the KAOS agent…and I wonder what happened to Mrs Huntley-Jones, Max…just now, did you hear it? He said we should let his wife 'rest in peace'…I wonder if there has been a murder…"

"Was she in the room when you went in behind the screen?"

"Yes, she was. It's so odd. She didn't seem dead, but I spoke to her and she didn't respond. Then I touched her and her skin was cold. I checked for a heartbeat or a pulse, but there weren't any. I pulled back the covers, thinking perhaps she had been a murder victim; perhaps there was blood or something…but then she suddenly flicked her eyes open. It was so scary…and she sat up and said something to me and started to comb her hair…just weird! Perhaps she's an impostor and the real Mrs Huntley-Jones is dead!"

"She flicked her eyes open suddenly?"

"Yes, very suddenly."

"That reminds me of something…" Max snapped his fingers a couple of times, thinking. "What does that remind me of, 99?"

"I'm sure I don't know…" She paused. "Max, someone hit me on the head too, no matter what Mr Huntley-Jones says. They took me down to the parlour and I woke up on the divan. I think we had better try to find a way out of here…if there are KAOS agents…and Mr Holmes also mentioned something about a murder…I am getting more confused by the second…"

"We can ask him in the morning when he sends the cab for us to go back to Baker Street, 99."

"I think we should get out of this room and hide somewhere else, Max. I have a terrible feeling that the KAOS agent or agents know who we are and are out to kill us. I think it's dangerous to stay here."

"No, I think you're wrong, 99. But there must be KAOS agents in this house who know who we are and are out to kill us. I think it's dangerous to stay here!"

99 sighed. "Yes, you're right, Max, as usual…" Max headed for the door. "Wait, Max, it's locked…let's use the passageway…"

Max let 99 step on the button in the floor to avoid further catastrophic events to his head, but there was nothing there when she stepped in the place where the button had been before. She pulled up the rug to reveal a small hole in the floor where the button had been.

"99, you must have really stomped on it the last time…I can't even see it anymore!"

"Max, someone removed it while we were downstairs…they know we know about the secret passageway!"

"Never fear, 99... I still have some tricks up my sleeve." Max checked all his pockets, looking for the explosive putty. "Eh, I guess I must have left it in my other pants…"

"Here, use this," said 99, handing him a lipstick.

"99, I don't wear lipstick!"

"Max, it's an explosive. You put the red part in the keyhole and push a button on the bottom."

"Oh. Okey-dokey." Max shoved the lipstick in the keyhole, pushed the button and in a moment, the lock was broken and the door sagged open.

As soon as Max stepped out in the corridor, he was confronted by the tall footman, Jenkins. "What are you doing out here, Smart?"

"My wife and I wanted a glass of water…"

"There is a pitcher of water in your room. There is no need for you to ruin the Master's woodwork…"

"No, eh, I'm sorry…well, a little glue and it will be as good as new…"

"You're coming with me, both of you! Until you leave in the morning, we are keeping an eye on you in the parlour. If you cause any trouble, we will have to tie you up! You wouldn't want that would you?"

"No, certainly not," said Max, eyeing the sword, which was hung back on the wall. In an incredibly deft move, Max grabbed the sword and turned to point it at the footman. "En garde!" he shouted.

"Mr Smart, put that down," said the butler. "Let's not have any more trouble…"

"Choose your weapon, Jenkins!" said Max, in a fencing stance.

"Oh, all right…" the footman removed another sword and faced Max. One could tell that he was also familiar with fencing. The two fought with the swords down the staircase, into the parlour. The clanking of metal upon metal was all one could hear. 99 pulled out a tiny hairpin from her purse. It held tiny bullets, too, like Max's ear plug gun.

"All right, you two, stop it," she shouted, pointing the tiny hairpin at Jenkins.

"No, 99, this is fun!" said Max. "I'm pretty good at this, don't you think?"

"I have a gun, Jenkins," said 99. "And I'm not afraid to use it!"

Jenkins gave 99 a glance as he turned her way. "What is that? You are going to shoot me with a hairpin?" He started to laugh and lost his concentration. Max was able to pin him against the wall with his sword.

But none of them had seen the woman doctor come up the other side of the staircase with a large 20th Century revolver in her hand. "Jenkins, get over here!" she growled. The footman dropped the sword and joined her.

The doctor got close enough to kick the hairpin from 99's hand. "Put down the sword, Smart!" she snarled at Max. Max dropped the sword. "Kick it away from yourself…" He did. "Now all of you, down in the parlour!" The four descended the staircase and the Control agents were told to sit on the divan.

Huntley-Jones joined the group momentarily. "I understand you have been making trouble again, Mr and Mrs Smart…you will stay in this room tonight until your cab comes to pick you up in the morning. Molly will bring your things down. I have assigned Jenkins and Dr Danzer to watch you all night." He paused. "By the way, where is Molly?"

As if in answer to his question, the bell at the door was heard to ring, along with a frantic pounding. "Jenkins, see who that is," said Huntley-Jones.


	9. Holmes Arrives

The footman opened the door and in rushed Molly, followed by Aidan McGuire, Inspector Lestrade, Dr Watson and Sherlock Holmes.

"What is the meaning of this?" sputtered Huntley-Jones. "Molly, where have you been?"

Lestrade spoke: "Mr 'untley-Jones, we're sorry to 'ave t' disturb you at this time o' the evenin', but this is police business. Would you all kindly 'ave a seat? We 'ave some questions t' ask…Mr 'Olmes…please…"

Huntley-Jones went as pale as a sheet.

Holmes spoke: "I don't believe this is your whole household, Mr Huntley-Jones. Would you kindly call for all the servants to come down to the parlour?"

Huntley-Jones nodded to Chillingsworth, who went to the bell-pull and called the servants down. The cook, several upstairs maids and housemen appeared. Several of the outside workers entered the room after Chillingsworth had gone to fetch them.

"This is everyone, except for the family guests who had come to Mrs Huntley-Jones' birthday celebration. Both Lestrade and I have interviewed each of them at length and based on those interviews and the eyewitness accounts of everyone here, it has been detemined that none of those family members had the opportunity to enter Mrs Huntley-Jones' suite that evening. Lestrade and I are in agreement about this."

"I will now ask everyone about the stolen jewels. Mrs Huntley-Jones' jewels were reportedly stolen from her bedroom suite, from the safe in the room." Everyone nodded in agreement. "The stableman, Aidan McGuire, has been accused of the crime, because of circumstantial evidence left in his room. Did anyone see the crime committed?"

Everyone shook their head. "Mr and Mrs Smart, I believe you have some evidence that you found in the Mistress' bed chamber suite…" said Holmes. He was walking about the parlour, looking at each face as he passed.

"Yes, I found a stick pin and a cigarette butt," said Max.

"Can you tell us what was singular about each one of them?"

"They both belong to KAOS agents," spoke up 99. "There is lipstick on the cigarette and the pin has initials on it…HMJ." Two of the people in the room stiffened suddenly, a fact which was not lost on Sherlock Holmes.

"Pray tell, Mr Holmes," said Huntley-Jones, "what is a KAOS agent?"

"It's a crime organization, Sir…" Holmes went on…"Doctor Danzer, you are the only smoker in this room," said Holmes, glancing at the doctor.

"Why you're wrong…I don't smoke!" said the doctor.

"On the contrary, Madam! Please remove everything from the right pocket of your lab coat…and place it on the table."

She reluctantly pulled out a modern-looking pack of cigarettes, with the KAOS label on them. "How did you know this?"

"The square bulge in your pocket was telling. But even more so, the slight yellow cast to the first two fingers of your right hand, not to mention your teeth…" The doctor put her hand over her mouth self-consciously.

"But that means nothing. So I smoke. So what?"

"Yes, of course. And you had every right to be in the sick woman's room, for you are her physician." She nodded.

"What about you, Jenkins? Why were you in the sick woman's room?"

"Why, I'm the footman. Why wouldn't I have been in her room, bringing her whatever she needs?"

"Ah, and there you have it. The footman would hardly be bringing anything to the lady. Her personal maid would be the one to do that. Your job, as footman, is to answer the door, run errands and do other chores. It would be strange to find you in the mistress' bedroom. Need I tell you that?"

"You don't understand, Mr Holmes…" said Jenkins.

"However, you were not observed entering the room, and someone else could have left the stick pin, however unlikely." Holmes turned to the Master of the house. "Mr. Huntley-Jones, where is your wife?"

"She's been ill ever since the night of the celebration of her birthday."

"Yes, but where exactly is she?"

"Why, up in her bedroom. She is very ill, Mr. Holmes. I don't see what this has to do with anything."

Everyone was paying full attention to Sherlock Holmes. No one had noticed, not even the Smarts, that Dr Watson and Aidan McGuire had disappeared from the group, until they were seen coming down the steps with Mrs Huntley-Jones. She was in her robe and nightgown, her blonde hair hanging loose. The two men were helping her walk down the steps.

Huntley-Jones turned. "How dare you disturb my wife!" he roared.

"Mr. Huntley-Jones, please sit down," said Holmes. "Dr Watson and Mr McGuire, bring Mrs Huntley-Jones to the settee so she can sit down."

For the first time, Huntley-Jones realized that Aidan McGuire, the stableman that he had accused of thievery, was in his home and helping his wife down the staircase.

"Get away from her…Lestrade, arrest this man at once and take him from my sight! He is the thief who stole my wife's jewels!"

"Be seated!" said Holmes sharply to Huntley-Jones. "Your wife is in no danger from him." He turned to 99. "Mrs Smart, is this the woman you saw in the mistress' bedroom?"

"Yes, it is," said 99.

"Would you please go over to her and touch her arm as you did before?"

99 did as she was asked. "And what are your observations?"

"Her skin is cold and dry, Mr Holmes." The woman did not object to 99 touching her arm, nor did she utter a word. 99 went on…"And it doesn't feel right…she doesn't feel dead, but she doesn't feel alive either…"

Max jumped to his feet at this statement. "She's a robot!" he shouted.

"Can you explain what a robot is, Mr Smart?" asked Holmes calmly.

"It's a machine that is built to look, act and talk like a person!"

"And why would you say that Mrs Huntley-Jones is a mechanical person?"

"When my wife told me how she flicked open her eyes suddenly, I knew it reminded me of something…Hymie, our Control robot! Her actions are somewhat like his too…I know it…she's a robot!"

"Can you prove this?"

99 stood up and walked to Mrs Huntley-Jones. "Let me show you…" She opened the woman's robe and at her waist, there was a wide belt of the same material as her nightgown. It was attached with buttons, which 99 opened. The woman protested, but 99 said, quietly and soothingly, "It's all right, Mariana, we're friends just here to help you."

On the robot's waist, was a door that opened to reveal various blinking lights, buttons, wiring and transformers. The Victorians, many of them interested in new technologies, had never seen anything like this. They crowded around to see the robot.

Only Holmes saw that Huntley-Jones, Jenkins and Dr Danzer were trying to sneak away to leave. "Seize them!" he called as he ran after the three, followed by Lestrade and Watson. The three were overtaken and brought back into the room.

They were made to sit on the divan.

"What's the meaning of this, Lestrade? …Mr Holmes?" blustered Huntley-Jones.

"Mr Huntley-Jones," said Holmes quietly, "Where is your wife?"

"She's right there…" he said, softly. "That's all that's left of her…"

"Please explain…"

Huntley-Jones suddenly looked tired and defeated. "You are correct; it is a robot. Dr Danzer presented her to me, as a way of keeping my wife's memory alive…"

"Go on…"

"My wife is dead, Mr Holmes. The only ones who are aware of that fact are Dr Danzer and my footman, Jenkins. I hired Jenkins six months ago. He has been a good employee. The afternoon of my wife's birthday celebration, she fell ill. Jenkins called in Dr Danzer, a physician he said has very good credentials and he recommended her highly. She came out of her swoon and I gave her the prescribed medication, for she was still very weak, but unfortunately, I must have given her an overdose by mistake as the doctor told me later and she passed away shortly afterward." Tears started to come down his cheeks.

"Did you report her death?"

"No, Dr Danzer threatened me, saying I had killed my wife and would surely be put away, at least for manslaughter…."

Danzer jumped up and started to protest, but Holmes stopped her. "Not one word, Madam, let the man speak! Go on, sir."

"Jenkins buried her on the property, in the cemetery in the woods. We could of course not mark the place." Huntley-Jones looked unspeakably sad.

"How did the jewel robbery come about?"

"Jenkins and Danzer said they could protect me from the police…they had some kind of machine that would simulate my wife…" he nodded toward the robot. "But she would have to be trained to act as Mariana before I could allow her to mingle with even the servants and certainly with her friends. She is not ready yet, as you can see; she even walks awkwardly."

"Where did you get this robot machine?" asked Holmes of Danzer and Jenkins.

"We built it…" said Danzer.

"Alone, just the two of you?"

"Yes," said Jenkins.

"I don't believe you," said Holmes, walking back and forth in front of the doctor and the footman. "You work for KAOS, don't you?"

Danzer and Jenkins both looked very surprised. "How did you know that? And what concern is it of yours, anyway?" said Jenkins.

"It's the precise reason that Mrs Huntley-Jones' jewels disappeared, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" asked Jenkins, sharply.

"It was never Aidan McGuire who took the jewels…it was you, Dr Danzer and Mr Jenkins…you took them to bring them back to KAOS… in the future!"

"What are you talking about?" said Jenkins, angrily.

"Your finger prints were all over the mistress' bed chamber. You were the ones who took the jewels from the safe and opened all the jewellery boxes, leaving one in Mr McGuire's quarters. Neither of you, Dr Danzer or Mr Jenkins, would have any reason to be in the safe, save that you were removing something.

"You are both KAOS agents. The Smarts proved it with the clues they found. Circumstantial, certainly. But none the less, the clues pointed us in the right direction and gave us the motive for your actions. You had no idea there would be Control agents here in this time to fingerprint you. You demanded the jewels as a payment for the robot that was to replace the deceased Mrs Huntley-Jones and the blame was put on Mr McGuire. You blackmailed Mr Huntley-Jones for accidentally killing his wife."

"Am I not correct, Sir?" asked Holmes of Huntley-Jones, who had his eyes closed and his hand on his forehead in despair.

"You are correct, Mr Holmes, they were blackmailing me."

"The jewels have been recovered also..." Holmes said, as Lestrade and his men brought in several cases of the jewels. "They were found buried in the garden. The flowers were disturbed over the burial place, showing it to be very recent. The fingerprints inside the cases and on the jewels included Dr Danzer and Mr Jenkins."

Holmes turned to Aidan. "Mr McGuire, tell me why you ran when in fact you were not guilty."

"I will show ye, Mr Holmes."


	10. Mariana's Story

Aidan McGuire, to explain why he had run away even though he was not guilty, opened a door to the patio. In the doorway stood Mariana Huntley-Jones, dressed in an elaborate purple lace and flowered Victorian gown. Her blonde hair was piled up on her head with curls in the back and matching flowers.

Huntley-Jones stood up in shock. "Mariana! What…how…" He couldn't speak. Danzer and Jenkins looked shocked too.

The woman spoke: "Aidan is the only person who helped me. At my birthday celebration, someone must have put something in my drink. I was feeling very ill and retired to my bed chamber. Later, I was indeed given an accidental overdose of a medication by my husband. I swooned after ingesting the medication and my husband and the other servants that were allowed to see me thought I was dead. I recovered enough to hear what was said by everyone in the room, but I could not speak or move. I heard Jenkins and Danzer speaking of the plot to blackmail my husband and take my jewels. They had purposely recommended an overdose of the medicine which my husband administered to me earlier.

"The medicine given me was purposely too strong; Malcolm did nothing wrong, even accidentally. As for the jewels, some of them are very rare, brought back from darkest Africa and the West Indies. They are priceless. Jenkins quickly took me to the woods where he threw me in a ravine, hoping the wolves would get me." Mariana glanced at Jenkins with a look of anger. "Thankfully, he didn't bury me as my husband had requested, not in ill will of course. Malcolm was too upset to watch the burial; he was weeping when Jenkins carried me out."

Mariana walked over to her husband and embraced him, then sat down beside him. "Aidan was currying one of the horses that night when he happened to see Jenkins carrying me out to the woods. He followed surreptitiously, then when Jenkins had left, he came down into the ravine to see what had happened. I had partially recovered, enough to tell him about Jenkins and Danzer's plan to blackmail my husband. Aidan was afraid that they would try to kill me and perhaps succeed the second time if I stayed at Ivy Hill, so he took me to an inn a distance away from the estate. He was riding back to Ivy Hill when he was apprehended by Jenkins and the other servants. Jenkins had spread the rumour that Aidan had stolen the jewels. If it were not for Aidan, I would not be alive."

Mariana went on: "Aidan escaped from the outbuilding where he had been confined and came to bring me news and stay at the same Inn where he had secured me in a room locked from the inside, so I couldn't be harmed. It was at that point that Mr Holmes spoke to him at the pub downstairs in the Inn and Aidan was not forthcoming with him at that point. But when I spoke to Aidan later, I encouraged him to tell Mr Holmes all, hoping he could unravel this for us and allow me to return safely home."

Molly, who was standing next to her fiancé, squeezed his hand and smiled at him for being so brave.

"There are two other pieces of the puzzle," said Holmes. "What is the real purpose of the mechanical woman? The KAOS agents could have simply killed Mrs Huntley-Jones and taken off with her jewels. They would not even have had to kill her, seeing as they had created a vortex in time in which they could come and go, stealing what they will from many times and places and taking it back with them..."

Everyone looked rather blank at this statement, save for the KAOS agents. Holmes, knowing they would not be forthcoming with the details of their plan, continued. "If I am correct, robots built in ths age, and there are some mechanical men and women who have been built as of late, although not as detailed and perfect as this one, are generally programmed to be truthful." He directed a question to the robotic Mariana. "Mariana, please tell us the purpose for which you were built."

In a voice devoid of any emotion the robot said: "I am built by the great organization KAOS to report on the happenings in this place and time. I am to become friendly with all of the wealthy families of the area and help my organization KAOS to remove all jewels, money and valuables from the possession of the criminals who have amassed this wealth."

Holmes spoke: "When she says 'crimnals,' she is of course referring to your friends and relatives, Mr Huntley-Jones."

Malcolm Huntley-Jones stood up and pointed to the robot, saying in a voice frought with emotion: "Remove this abomination from me!"

"Yes, indeed, Sir…" said Lestrade. The two KAOS agents and the robotic woman were led away by several of the uniformed policemen.

Then Huntley-Jones walked over to Aidan McGuire and shook his hand heartily. "I apologise, dear boy, for falsely accusing you; little did I realize you had become my wife's protector in this sordid affair. My heartiest thanks for all you have done for her. I should like to present you with a gift of enough money for you to marry Molly. I would ask you to please stay on in your present job and I shall be adding to your monthly salary."

Aidan smiled and thanked his employer.

Holmes and Watson accompanied the Inspector back to London, but before leaving, Holmes said there would be a cab sent for the Smarts shortly.

"Wait...there are no charges against me, Inspector?" asked Huntley-Jones of Lestrade as the inspector was leaving. Mariana put her arm around Malcolm.

"No, Sir. Although you were not forthcoming, the crime was not intended and indeed, the lady is alive and well and the jewels have been found."

"Well, I guess that wraps it up," said Max. He started for the door.

"Wait, Mr Smart," said Huntley-Jones. "I'm sorry I was so rude to you before, I am grateful for you and your wife helping to sort out this sorry affair….I am grateful for the happy ending…"

"You're most welcome," said 99, smiling.

"Is there anything I can give you as a reward?"

99 started to say, "No…" when Max interrupted her.

"I just love that sword," he pointed to the one he had used in the sword fight with Jenkins.

"It's yours, if you wish, Mr Smart. A small price to pay for getting my beautiful wife back."

"Why thanks, sir, I'll take good care of it." Max whipped it about and accidentally slashed a fancy velvet curtain in half. "Oops, sorry about that…"

Huntley-Jones looked irritated for a moment, then forced a smile. "I'll have the servants take care of that. Why don't you take the scabbard too, Mr Smart?"

99 smiled this time. "Thank you, Sir."

Then the Smarts made their farewells to the Huntley-Joneses and they went outside to find the cab just pulling up.

After settling down in the cab, Max said smugly, "Well, that was a great case and we cracked it in record time!"

"Max," said 99 chidingly, "We found a few clues, but Sherlock Holmes did the rest! He solved the case!"

"99, Holmes doesn't exist. Remember, he's just a fictional detective, a creation of Arthur Conan Doyle's mind…he couldn't possibly have solved the crime if he doesn't exist! So we must have done it. And you're forgetting that _I_ was the one who got hit in the head with the secret door over and over!" said Max, pouting.

"Yes, love, that's true, you did take a bit of punishment. I'm just glad that Mrs Huntley-Jones is safe and sound and that she wasn't killed." She paused. "But it makes me wonder…what do you suppose Lestrade is going to do with Danzer and Jenkins?"

"Lock them up, 99. Jail is where all KAOS agents should be to keep the world free of nastiness and evil!"

"You're right, Max, but they're time travellers, just as we are. I wonder if a jail will be able to keep them. There was talk of a time vortex, that must be how we got here too…"

"That can't be right, 99, we weren't riding on a giant turtle to get here!"

"Not a tortoise, Max, a vortex! A passageway through time..."

"Oh."

When they reached 221B Baker Street, Max and 99 ascended the steps. No one was about. The rooms were quiet. Holmes and Watson must have just stepped out. The Smarts retired to their upstairs suite.

In the morning, Mrs Hudson knocked at the door and brought them breakfast. There was still no sign of Holmes or Watson.

"Mrs Hudson, do you know where Holmes and Watson have gone?" asked 99.

"No, Ma'am, I do not. They are probably gallivanting about on some new case."

"I see. Well, thank you for the breakfast."

"You are welcome, Ma'am."

Then Max's shoe phone began to ring.

"Max, where are you?" came the Chief's voice.

"Same place, Chief. We're still in London. We're staying with Sherlock Holmes, you know."

"What are you talking about Max?"

"Just what I said."

"Max, Sherlock Holmes is a fictional detective…"

"I was trying to tell 99 that, but she wouldn't listen." He cupped his hand over the phone's mouthpiece and turned to 99. "See, I told you so! The Chief is siding with me!"

"Max, Max…" yelled the Chief from the other end of the phone. "I need to know when you are coming back! I know you and 99 wanted to extend your vacation, but there was no need to make up such an elaborate story…"

"Let me talk to him, Max," said 99, reaching for the shoe phone. "Chief, we are still in London, and we would have come back except that, as we mentioned before, we seem to have become entrenched in a time vortex. We are still in the year 1892."

99 could picture the Chief, in desperation, pulling out the little hair he had left on his head. "99, when will you be back? I can't run my agency without my top agents!"

"Our best guess is 82 years, like we mentioned before." 99 paused. "How are the kids? Who is watching them?"

"When you first told me you weren't coming back right away, I contacted your mother whom you said was sitting with the kids. Larrabee has helped her out when she needed a break. The kids are fine, but asking for you both."

"Chief, isn't there someone at Control who can help us out? Some scientist who understands time vortices?"

"We'll check into it for you, 99." The Chief sounded subdued and the Smarts felt a let down after the excitement of the case. They wondered, _where was Holmes?_

They spent a good part of the day looking through some of Holmes' books; he had shelves of books on many subjects. 99 found one on the subject of time travel. They paged through the whole book, but it was of no use; it was a book on how to build a time machine and it looked quite theoretical.

Finally, after hours of perusing the books, they took a walk and visited some of the nearby shops. They walked nearly the whole day and returned in time for another of Mrs Hudson's suppers. After that, the Smarts decided to call it a day and retire to their apartment above Holmes' rooms. Neither Holmes nor Watson made an appearance.

The next morning, Max and 99 dressed and came down to Holmes' rooms. There was still no one was there. They had dressed in their own clothing, in the hopes that they would be able to return to their own time. Max returned the suit and hat to the place where he had found them and 99 did the same with hers.

99 sat down by the window. She felt depressed, missing the children and her mother very much. She idly glanced out the window. Suddenly, she jumped up excitedly.

"Max, look out the window!"

"What is it, 99?" he asked after looking out. "What's so strange about that? I just see autos and people dressed normally and …99! Where are the horses and buggies?"

"That's just it, Max, I think we're back in 1974!" 99 turned around suddenly and almost walked into the robot Mariana Huntley-Jones. It was standing near the doorway. "Max, how did the robot get here?"

The robot looked as if it had been in the place for 80 years; it looked a bit worse for wear.

"99, let's get out of here and see if we can get home!"

The two Control agents opened the door and Max almost ran into some tourists coming into the room. They ran past the tourists and took a cab to Heathrow Airport, where they were able to buy tickets to fly back to Washington, DC.

**Epilogue**

Upon returning home, the Control agents fell back into their normal routine. One day, when visiting the library on a whim, 99 decided to re-read some of her favourite Sherlock Holmes stories. She checked out several of the books and was perusing them at home when she came upon a story she had never heard of before: _The Case of the Mechanical Wife_. Intrigued, she read the story that told about a strange mechanical woman that was created to replace a murdered real woman. There were time travellers involved and 99 knew that she and Max had lived the story. With interest and amazement, she recognized all of the characters in the story as ones she had met in their odd trip to Victorian times. But she had never heard of the story before…

"Max! Look what I found…I can't believe this…"

99 showed Max the strange story, unknown to her until reading it this very night. Max read it too and when he finished, he put the book down.

"That was a good story, 99. Sir Arthur could sure write a great mystery…"

"Didn't it sound a bit familiar, Max?"

"No, why, 99?"

"Max, we just came back from London…don't you remember the case that Sherlock Holmes solved there?"

"Well, yes, but as I said before, 99, Sherlock Holmes was just a fictional detective…"

"Max! Stop harping on that and just listen…don't you remember the robot woman…you said she reminded you of Hymie…"

"Eh, yes…"

"And the American woman and her husband in the book…don't they sound familiar?"

"The woman, tall, willowy and dark-haired, with lovely blue eyes and a soft voice…" read Max. He stopped reading and snapped his fingers. "You're right, she sounds familiar, I might even know someone like that…"

"Max, it's _me_ that is being described! We were in the story!"

"Really?" said Max turning the pages. "Where am I?"

"Right here…" said 99 pointing to a description: "…loud and strangely awkward little man…"

"99!" said Max, chidingly. "That's not me, what are you talking about? Don't you remember…I played Holmes' brother… "

99 laughed. "Here's something else interesting, Max...it says that KAOS had discovered a time vortex could be made by a machine that they created. That's how they travelled back in time!"

"What about us? We didn't come in a time machine..."

"No, but the book explains that the time machine created some unexpected vortices in time. Apparently one was in Mr Holmes' parlour and we must have walked right into it. It doesn't explain how we were suddenly dressed in the Victorian clothes, but I think the vortex, because it extended back into our own time, kept the channel open for the Chief to receive our calls."

"So it looks as if KAOS has the way to go back and forth between time..." He paused. "99, Control will have to invent a time machine too!"

"Well, it looks as if Dr Danzer and Mr Jenkins are stuck in the past, Max. It says Sherlock Holmes discovered where the machine was and destroyed it! That's certainly good news!"

"Well, 99, I was looking forward to going back and forth in time...it would be fun..." He paused. "99, will you pay me the penny IOU that you promised when I was thinking? And add another on to it..I'm thinking very hard at the moment, too. "You know, if Sherlock Holmes is a fictional detective, how did we end up in one of his stories?"

"I don't know love, that's a good question. Maybe there is no answer to it." 99 put her arms around Max's neck from behind. She kissed him on the cheek. "Never mind, love. It was fun while it lasted, wasn't it?"

Max smiled and nodded. He kissed her back.

**THE END**


End file.
